


PRINCE/SS

by Choke-a-Bro (Vanya_Deyja)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: AU, Gen, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:48:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23341996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanya_Deyja/pseuds/Choke-a-Bro
Summary: Noctis knows who he is regardless of who agrees with him on the subject but no one ever said adolescents was going to be easy least of all for royalty.
Comments: 18
Kudos: 68





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so…. I saw a prompt on the FFXV dreamwidth kink meme. I think it was by an anonymous user. They basically wanted someone to write about the pros and cons of being transgender while also being royalty. Specifically they wanted someone to write about Noctis and that sort of situation. I don’t know if I’ve totally achieved what they wanted but I enjoyed making this. 
> 
> This is a topic I know about personally and I’d like to see more fics about transness that are a bit more in-depth. If this isn’t to your tastes that’s cool. I’m just coming at it from my perspective.
> 
> Really keen to see what you guys think! 
> 
> IMPORTANT: I start this by using female pronouns for Noctis until a point at the story where it feels appropriate to transition them to male. Mostly to reflect Noctis' feelings on the subject.

Noctis is very cautious with the subject. Ignis, for a long time, is the only one who gets a glimpse at it. Noctis just toys with the edge of it never quite pulling the thread out all the way. Noctis knows where she feels comfortable and where she does not but she tries not to develop the sensation into anything significant. Every girl finds womanhood uncomfortable. Everyone feels like _this_ sometimes, right…?

Noctis is on the couch with Prompto, fourteen years old, when Prompto asks the question:

“If you could be anything in the whole world, what would you be?” Prompto asks it innocently enough. Noctis knows he wants her to say something like a professional gamer or a mermaid. It’s just a hypothetical. Kids ask each other dumb questions all the time just to feel closer to each other, just for the pleasure of talking to each other and being close.

“A boy,” Noctis murmurs absently, scrolling on her phone. She’s not really thinking too hard. She’s just answering the question. There’s no guilt, no thought really; it’s a ‘ _what if_ ’ question. Like no one’s saying Noctis could take a magic pill and be a mermaid but if she had a real choice? She’d be a boy.

Prompto doesn’t slide the answer off the same way someone else might. He doesn’t say something like _‘oh yeah being a boy has its advantages_ ’ or anything like that. He doesn’t even tie it to her position. She’ll rule whether she’s female or not after all. No, Prompto seems to sense the sincerity hidden under the nonchalance.

“Really dude…?” He whispers.

Noctis goes still. Most people don’t take such big, fantastical, statements seriously especially from a teenager with such a complicated growing body. Noctis’ magic complicates everything and being born female has stigma amongst royals. Most adults would put it down to a million passing factors. Most adults would nod sagely and say ‘ _that’ll fade_ , _Princess_ ’ but Prompto doesn’t do that.

Prompto listens.

Prompto hears what she’s really saying.

“Yeah.” Noctis murmurs. If she could do anything, be anything, she wouldn’t have a billion dollars or a jet-pack. She’d feel comfortable. There wouldn’t be such a huge disconnect between her insides- her brain, her soul- and how the rest of the world sees her. She’d be able to be all the things she longs for inside. Nothing grand, nothing stupid; just one of the guys.

“You don’t like being a girl?” Prompto is trying so desperately, so sincerely, to handle this with tenderness. He’s trying to listen.

“It’s not that,” Noctis shrugs. “I know girls can do anything. I know they’re just as good as boys. I know being a girl doesn’t stop me from doing anything but…”

Noctis hesitates.

Prompto nudges her forward, gently.

“But I don’t feel like a girl.” She confesses. “I don’t want to be a girl. I just… I want people to _see it_. I’d rather be a stable boy than a queen.”

Prompto frowns deeply, chewing on it, and rests his head on Noctis’ shoulder.

“Why don’t you then?” He whispers encouragingly.

“I don’t know what you mean…?” Noctis _is_ a girl. She can’t magic all that away even if she wants to.

“Well…” Prompto tries to explain himself. “Why don’t you do what makes you comfortable? Do you want long hair? Do you want to wear dresses…? There’s no reason you _have_ to. Is there…?”

Noctis swallows the idea tentatively.

“You think…?” She whispers.

“Yeah.” Prompto encourages. “Maybe you should see what it feels like?”

* * *

Noctis swallows all her nerves and asks Ignis one afternoon while he drives her home from school.

“Can I have a haircut?” She asks, tenser than she should be.

“Of course, if you want,” Ignis nods, eyes on the road. “Are you getting tired of having your hair long?”

“Yeah…” Noctis rubs her phone screen in her lap, afraid to look at him.

“A bob perhaps? Bangs?” Ignis suggests.

“I was…” Noctis unlocks her phone and brings up the photos. “Can I have something like this?”

She hands the phone over when Ignis pulls up to the next traffic light.

Ignis glances and Noctis tries not to look but she’s carefully cataloguing every micro-expression despite herself. She catches the subtle flex of a frown, the confusion, but Ignis glances back to the traffic and returns her phone as the light changes.

“If you want Noct,” he shrugs nonchalantly. “It’s certainly different to what you normally get.”

“I feel like it,” Noctis murmurs.

“I’m sure we can organise something.” Ignis answers, seemingly unconcerned. “I’ll book you an appointment with a hairdresser one day after school this week.”

Noctis takes a deep breath.

That’s the first hurdle.

Ignis seems to think its an adolescent flight of fancy but that’s okay. If Noctis changes her mind she won’t have to explain it any more than that, right? That’s good, right?

Noctis dithers the entire day before the appointment.

“It’s a lot.” She murmurs to Prompto, eyeing the picture on her phone.

“What do you want?” Prompto nudges, fishing up her free hand and squeezing it tight.

“I want to cut all my hair off.” Noctis admits, surprised by her gut deep certainty.

“Then do it, dude.” Prompto encourages.

The hairdresser is willing to do anything Noctis wants but she evidently expected something a little milder. She hesitates, visibly, for a moment.

“Have you ever had your hair that short?” She asks.

“No,” Noctis admits. “But it’s hair. It grows back.”

“Yeah, of course, Highness.” The hairdresser smiles. “I just want you to like it and I can’t put hair back on. Why don’t I take it back to a bob and you can tell me if you want me to take more off?”

Noctis consents, nails digging into her palms under the smock.

She’s weirdly scared.

What if this isn’t right? What if she doesn’t like it? What if this doesn’t make her feel better?

The hairdresser pulls her hair back and makes the first cut. Whole inches of hair come of in one swoop. Noctis let’s go of a soft breath and tilts her head in the mirror. It looks different but, like…? It feels good. All of it gone. It’s like a weight is off her shoulders. All that feminine junk is in the hairdresser’s other hand.

“So…?” The hairdresser prompts gently.

“More.” Noctis nods, certainty redoubled.

“Okay, you got it!” The hairdresser laughs, picking up her scissors again.

Once she sees Noctis isn’t going to burst into a cascade of tears the hairdresser starts to get tangibly excited. Like no one noble or important ever asks her to do something exciting with their hair.

“What do you think?” She asks about twenty minutes later, hand running through the Princess’s mostly cut hair. “You want some gel in it?”

“Yeah.” Noctis admits to herself as much as anything.

And so the hairdresser sets to work.

When they’re finally done it’s like…

Noctis feels like she’s on a bubble.

She just feels so much _lighter_.

She keeps tilting her head. She’s kind of mystified that the face in the mirror looks more like the one she always gutturally expects, wishes, would look back at her in the mirror every morning. She looks more like how some deep, secret, part of her brain _expects_ her to look. It’s not a want. It’s a rightness. This is how she _should_ look. It’s like her brain knows something the rest of her body either isn’t aware of or pointedly doesn’t agree with.

“Do you like it?” The hairdresser checks, one last time.

“I love it.” Noctis flashes her a smile.

“Good,” the hairdresser returns the grin.

Noctis is cleaned up and presented to Ignis.

Ignis hums, evidently a little amused, but he just says; “it looks nice, Highness. Happy?”

“Happy.” Noctis promises.

“Would you like another appointment?” Ignis asks, stepping up to pay at the desk.

“Yeah,” Noctis nods keenly.

* * *

The hair is amazing but it doesn’t quiet gel with everything else about Noctis’ wardrobe. It’s like now she’s unpacked one piece of the problem she’s only further highlighted how big the problem actually is.

Noctis likes some of her clothes. She finds them aesthetically pleasing. She just… she doesn’t ever find them as pretty on herself as she does on a mannequin. They never look quite right. They never seem to suit her the way she feels like they should. And they’re never comfortable. She feels like she’s always awkwardly fidgeting and restlessly adjusting herself. But that’s how clothes are supposed to feel, right? At least girls always say _‘beauty is pain_ ’, right?

Noctis approaches Ignis again.

“Iggy,” she asks while he mends her school blouse. “Can I buy some new clothes?”

“You have quite a few clothes, Noctis.” He remarks mildly.

“I know,” Noctis pulls back, stifling the desire.

Ignis seems surprised she’s not pushing the point.

“I suppose winter is coming up,” he backtracks, as if she’s confusing him. “I’m sure you could buy a few things. Just for your personal wardrobe?”

“Yeah,” Noctis nods cautiously.

“I’ll get some money loaded on your card.” Ignis promises. “I think I’m quite busy this week. Would you consent to letting Gladio and some Glaive escort you to the shopping district?”

“Can I bring Prompto?” She asks.

“Of course,” Ignis permits.

On the weekend they make a trip into the centre of Insomnia. Gladio has been clothes shopping with Ignis and Noctis before. He knows Noctis to be quite picky and particular about what she’ll wear. A little eccentric but always obsessively finicky. He’s obviously not terribly enthused about the prospect.

“So where to?” He asks, sunglasses on top of his head, leading two scrawny teenagers.

“Crown-Mart.” Noctis decides.

“The department store…?” Gladio hesitates.

Noctis nods, feeling very shaky, not sure how to explain herself. She doesn’t want anything expensive. She wouldn’t know where to start buying nice guy clothes. She just wants things she can wear every day. She’s only got a few hundred dollars to effectively start replacing fourteen years of wardrobe. Besides, there’s something pure adolescent boy about buying graphic tees from a department store.

“Okay,” Gladio shrugs, like he thinks she’s up to some kind of scheme. Like he’s waiting for her to reveal the real plan later.

When they arrive Prompto leads the way to the men’s section. Gladio frowns, bemused, but doesn’t challenge it.

From there Noctis and Prompto spend almost three hours in the mall with two stuffed baskets. Prompto helps her pick out at least four printed tees, there’s a pair of plain blue jeans, a big fuck-off pair of boots, some very plain, very ‘ _unflattering_ ’, sports bras…

“You getting an entire wardrobe here, Princess?” Gladio snorts, still watching them like he’s trying to unpack a mystery.

Noctis shrugs.

The last thing Noctis finds is a big, soft, hoodie. It’s amazing. It’s just black but she knows instantly she wants it.

“That’ll swamp you.” Gladio chuckles.

“ _So?_ ” Noctis snaps, already on edge.

“Alright, alright…” Gladio holds his hands up, placating. “It’s all good. You kids ready to go get lunch?”

Noctis glances to Prompto and nods.

“Let’s go pay for this then.”

When they get back to the apartment Noctis gets changed right away.

She pulls on her new jeans, throws off her frilly bra, shrugs on a printed tee and wraps herself in her hoodie and…

Noctis slumps.

It…

It’s so bizarre.

It’s like everything _instantly_ feels better.

Noctis didn’t expect the feeling to be so drastic but, amazingly, she feels so much better already. It just feels like she’s finally in something that fits, that suits…

She feels like she’s wearing what she wants.

She feels like she looks like she wants to look.

“Come show me!” Prompto calls from the lounge where he’s booted up the game station.

Noctis traipses out, hands in her pockets, and Prompto pauses with a cautious head tilt.

“How does it feel…?”

“I…” Noctis looks down at herself again. “I really like it…?”

She’s surprised by how much she likes it.

Prompto grins warmly.

Noctis feels…

Noctis feels _calmer._

* * *

Noctis takes immense delight in immediately changing out of her school uniform every afternoon. She dons her hoodie like armour. When she’s feeling frazzled and stressed somehow slipping into the right clothes instantly soothes her. She feels steadied somehow.

It does have downsides though.

Somehow, knowing how comfortable her jeans and hoodie makes her feel only intensifies how gross and awkward her school skirt makes her feel. She’s never liked her uniform but know she realises the discomfort she’s feeling? It’s embarrassment. She doesn’t belong in these clothes. She feels trapped, suffocated, every time she wears them.

Its that feeling that inspires her to ask Ignis about an upcoming event as he drives her from school to the Citadel for training.

“I’ve ordered a new dress for the party,” Ignis tells her, “I think you’ll like it. We’ll get it fitted and you can tell me what you think.”

“Can I wear a suit…?” Noctis poses innocently, heart clenching.

Ignis hesitates. “I don’t think that would be appropriate for a formal event, Noct.”

Noctis presses down the feeling, swallowing this sudden rush of overwhelming disappointment that surges over her like a wave. She shuts up but creeping behind the miserable feeling is a white-hot _resentment_.

She grunts goodbye to Ignis when he drops her off and changes into her training gear sullenly.

Gladio teases her, banters, but she doesn’t have the patience for it.

Gladio, seemingly sensing something is wrong, pulls her away from the sword exercises to the punching bag. Holding it he encourages her to hit it. She does, mildly at first, but he doesn’t say anything. For a moment she starts to forget he’s there and, frowning, she hits the bag again. And again, and again…

Harder and harder…

Before long she’s laying into this thing hard and fast. _Angry_.

She’s not even angry at Ignis, she doesn’t think, it’s just not fair.

She lands one last, brutal, punch and Gladio grunts as she forces the bag back hard into him.

“Geeze Princess,” he laughs softly. “Better?”

Noctis shakes her head weakly.

It only helped a fraction.

“Alright, alright…” Gladio rounds the punching bag and, arm around her shoulders, pulls her to the benches to sit down. “What’s wrong? You’re upset.”

“Ignis won’t let me wear a suit to the gala.” Noctis murmurs, trying desperately to convey somehow exactly how absolutely miserable that reality it makes her.

“That’s--?” Gladio starts to laugh but—

But then he catches the way she looks at him; exhausted, dejected, pleading…

Gladio trails off, catching himself in a kind of confused frown.

“You really want to, huh?” He supposes, trying to understand it.

Noctis nods firmly.

“Why’s it matter so much?” Gladio asks, pulling her a fraction closer.

She shrugs. She doesn’t know how to explain it. Or, if she does, she’s afraid to use the words.

“Hmm,” Gladio hums, chewing on the notion. “If it matters that much to you, Noct, then it’s important.” 

“I just…” Noctis struggles to say something, anything, that will make it clear. “I don’t feel comfortable in dresses right now…?”

Gladio nods, digesting.

“I’ll talk to Iggy,” he promises. “I’m sure if he knew it was upsetting you this much he’d understand.”

“You think…?” Noctis murmurs.

“Iggy’s whole world revolves around you,” Gladio promises. “I’m sure he’ll do his best to help if it’s upsetting you this much.”

"Thanks," Noctis slumps into him.

Gladio does talk to Ignis before they head back to Noctis' apartment for the night. Ignis doesn't immediately make any mention of the discussion to Noctis but when they return to the Princess's apartment Ignis follows her up and says;

"Noct, I want to talk a little."

Noctis is petrified but takes a seat beside him on the couch. Ignis takes her hand, holds it between both of his, and begins-

"Noct, if wearing certain things makes you genuinely uncomfortable we can absolutely change our plans." He prefaces. "But I need to know if there's any reason you feel so uncomfortable right now?"

Noctis purses her lips, unsure how to gather her nerve.

"If someone has done something that has made you uncomfortable with your body...?" Ignis murmurs. "You can talk to me."

Ignis thinks she's been assaulted or something...?

Noctis laughs weakly and shakes her head.

"I just..." She squeezes his hand but can't quite get it out.

"Did someone say or do something?" He asks.

"No," she promises limply. 

"But something is wrong." Ignis concludes.

"I need you to believe me," Noctis murmurs, tense and quiet. "I don't want you to tell me I'm confused. Cause I'm not."

Ignis frowns but nods. "Of course, Noct."

"I want to be a boy." Noctis breathes, waiting for the impact to register.

Ignis opens his mouth but, thinking better of it, closes it for a moment longer.

"Have you been feeling this way for some time?"

"A long time." Noctis admits.

"You never said anything, Highness." Ignis tries to understand, squeezing her hand back.

"I know the Crown needs me to be a girl, so I tried," Noctis feels her throat clamping up. "But I don't think I can do it. I tried Iggy but I just... I don't want to be alive if this is what I have to do forever..."

Ignis nods quietly, listening.

"I think, Noct," he murmurs, "that this isn't Crown business right now. I think you need to talk to your Father."

Noctis winces, stomach sinking.

"Not as the King," Ignis clarifies, "just as your father." 

"Do you think I'm weird?" Noctis wonders. 

"Noct there is not a thing you could do that would ever make me love you a molecule less." Ignis promises. "You're you." 

"Do I really have to talk to Dad...?"

"We can't make things any better without his help and, if you're upset like this, I'm sure he'd want to know."

Noctis swallows

* * *

Getting a meeting with the King is a nightmare for most people. Even Noctis gets to skip the line only on special occasions. Ignis talks to his Uncle, Hand of the King, who talks to Regis, who talks to scheduling and eventually, two days later, Noctis' case is considered serious enough to earn a little private time. 

Ignis obviously didn't tell them the whole story but he certainly must've communicated this was a serious, father-daughter, family thing that needed attention urgently.

Regis pulls Noctis down to sit with him on the couch. Protocol is never completely forgotten even in private, it's a part of who Regis is at this point, but he does try to unwind and just be a Dad when he can. Noctis slumps against his shoulder but her throat is tense and her heart is fluttering a little too close to the skin. She genuinely doesn’t want to do this. Like, she sort of does, but what she wants is for this not to be complicated. Why couldn't she just be born a boy? She is a boy. Why won't her genitals just get on board with that? 

"Now then," Regis sighs, arm around her. "What's all this then? What's the trouble?"

Noctis doesn't know where to start. She could tiptoe around, preface it, but she's not sure that'll help. Ignis knows what _'transgender_ ' means because he's a twenty something gay man but does her Dad...?

"I want to transition." She starts strong. Blunt, to the point, clear. There's no walking back that statement.

"I don't understand?" Regis tilts his head in genuine confusion. 

"I..." Here comes the hard part. "I'm a boy." _He_ declares plainly, claiming it. Finally. "And I want to live as a boy."

Regis seems bamboozled. 

"Noctis," he obviously knows this is serious, that his baby's in pain, but he's audibly struggling with the concept. "You're just perfect the way you are. I know, traditionally, being a woman is hard. But you're the Chosen of the Crystal. No one questions your entitlement to the throne--"

"I know," Noctis lifts his head off the King's shoulder. "But I'm not a girl. I'm a boy." 

Regis tries again; "there's nothing wrong with being a girl, Noctis."

"I know," Noctis repeats stubbornly. "But _I'm_ _not a girl_. I... I know girls are great. I know I can be a good ruler. But this isn't about the throne. This is just about me and, Dad, I'm telling you; I'm a boy. I just am. And being a girl is _killing me_."

Touch dramatic but absolutely sincere.

Regis seems taken aback.

Regis purses his lips. Noctis can see all the instincts fighting inside him. There's the gut impulses of a generally good Dad fighting the protocol of a two thousand year old dynasty. Noctis isn't sure who's going to come out on top at first but, taking a deep breath, Regis nods slowly.

"Okay, I hear you," he promises. "If that's genuinely how you feel... I don't understand this sort of thing, Noctis. It wasn't as talked about when I was your age. But if that's how you feel that's important. I think, for both our sakes, we should get you a good therapist so you can talk about this with someone."

"I'm not--" Noctis riles.

"I know, I know," Regis promises. "I'm not saying you're wrong or you're crazy. I'm just saying we should talk to a professional. I don't know much about this and we should get you someone who does so they can help you figure it out." 

Noctis simmers down, swallowing it. 

"Sound alright?" 

Noctis nods.

* * *

Unsurprisingly there are several very exclusive therapists in Insomnia who are willing to move heaven and earth to get Noctis an appointment the following afternoon.

Grace is an older woman but she's obviously very well informed and she specialises in sexuality and this sort of thing. Ignis looked into her thoroughly. She's been forced to sign several additional nondisclosure agreements and such but she seems to take that level of secrecy in stride.

Regis wants to attend at least the first appointment and he reschedules a council meeting to do so. Grace spends a good five minutes greeting him formally, answering some basic questions he has, but then when she has the King settled turns to Noctis.

Grace asks questions Noctis isn’t used to.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Highness,” she begins, “my name’s Grace. What would you like me to call you?”

Noctis wavers. He’s got one name. It’s never really bothered him either. ‘ _Noctis_ ’ is gender neutral in old Lucian. It’s an ancient name but it’s been used by plenty of boys.

“Noct, please,” he decides. It’s strange but he’s kind of glad she asked.

“Now, Noct, I’ve heard some things.” Grace tells him. “But I want you to tell me what’s going on.”

Noctis takes a deep breath and starts laying it out. It takes a moment, getting comfortable, especially with his Dad in the room but she doesn’t interrupt him. She lets him talk without interruption or a strong reaction. All she seems to do is encourage him to talk until he feels ready to stop and, once he starts talking freely, it all comes out. It feels kind of good to put it in basic terms. To be honest about how he’s feeling out loud.

“That sounds like a lot.” Grace nods. “I imagine being a teenager isn’t any easier when you’re royalty.”

“No,” Noctis snorts tiredly.

“Would you like me to use male pronouns when we talk, Noct?”

He nods.

“Okay, well, I’ll certainly do that.” Grace promises. “Knowing all that, Noct, what do you want to do?”

“I want to transition.”

“Do you know much about transitioning?” Grace asks.

“No,” Noctis admits. He’s done some googling but that was almost too much information.

“Well,” Grace explains, “doctors generally don’t like to prescribe hormone therapy until you’re a little older. This isn’t a phase, of course, but being a teenager is confusing and maybe there’s a couple of things going on.”

“Right,” Noctis accepts.

“What we _can_ do,” Grace promises, “is put you on puberty blockers with consent from your Father. It’s not the same as putting you on testosterone but it might give you a little time to work out how you’re feeling without your body changing _more_. Because I get the sense that, right now, your body is pretty distressing in some ways.”

“Yes,” Noctis wheezes. 

“What do you think, Majesty?” Grace ask, turning slightly.

Noctis’ head whips right, eyes pleading.

“I do have some concerns,” Regis admits. “What do they do exactly?”

“They inhibit the release of the hormones which encourage the development of secondary sexual characteristics.” Grace answers.

“Are they safe?”

“They can affect fertility,” Grace replies, “but they’re generally considered quite safe. Most importantly they give young people a chance to figure these things out without added stress.”

“There are complications.” Regis tiptoes delicately. “Noctis’ fertility is, unavoidably, something we have to talk about seriously. More importantly; Noctis’ magic is linked to puberty. As far as I understand it those changes are important to helping her magic develop. I don’t know if these medications, if we stop the natural process, if it would have other side effects. It’s not something the royal family has ever done before.”

Noctis sags.

“Okay,” Grace sits back, “I totally hear what your Father is saying, Noct. He doesn’t want you to have a medical complication. That’s very important. I don’t want that to happen either. What do you think?”

Noctis takes a breath.

“ _I hate it_ ,” he admits passionately, “but… I get it, I guess…”

Regis looks genuinely apologetic. That helps.

“I know it’s not ideal,” Grace nods, “but even if that’s not an option for you right now it doesn’t mean we can’t talk about different options later. I think your Dad’s genuinely just interested in your health right now.”

“I would do anything to make this easier,” Regis promises. “If it would help I would support it but I don’t want you to get hurt. Magic is complicated. If we tamper with that development it could be very dangerous. It’s not that I don’t want to support you, Noctis.”

“Right,” Noctis sighs.

“Are you alright, Noct?” Grace presses gently.

“Just disappointed.” Noctis admits. “Kind of scared.”

“Why?”

“I already find everything really wrong and uncomfortable.” Noctis fidgets softly. “If my breasts get any bigger it’s going to feel like the end of the world. I don’t want to be _more_ girly.”

“That does sound scary,” Grace agrees. “Why don’t we focus on what we can control for now? Are there things we can do, today, that might make you feel a little more relaxed?”

“I’ve got clothes I wear at home and I changed my hair, stuff like that,” Noctis shrugs. “But I was asking Iggy if I could wear a suit to that gala I have to go to?” He glances, more to Regis than anything. “And my school uniform is awful. I hate it.”

“The problem,” Regis begins with Grace’s encouragement, “is that if we do things like that we might have to make a press statement and I don’t know if you’re ready to make a decision like that yet. Not publicly.”

Noctis sags further.

“Well that’s true,” Grace nods, “but I would suggest that maybe you don’t have to yet? I understand that your lives are very public but right now this, these feelings? They’re private and they’re no one’s business. No one is entitled to an explanation. If Noct wants to wear a suit, then maybe he should, and if anyone asks…. Well, adolescence is a time where people discover their own style. Maybe you could just say it’s a fashion choice? Honestly, beyond that you don’t have to explain it, do you Majesty…?”

Noctis glances, cautious, and Regis seems taken aback.

But Regis does seem to be thinking about it.

“That’s very true,” Regis nods, “kids try all sorts of new things when they’re at this age. If we say it’s just a fashion choice, then…” He hums a little. “Well, no one can read further into it than that without breaking confidentiality, can they?”

Noctis perks.

“Maybe that’s a first step then?” Grace nods encouragingly.

“I think so,” Regis agrees.

Noctis is _delighted_.


	2. Chapter 2

The suit? It’s really handsome. Ignis has great taste and it looks pretty amazing when it’s fitted formally. Noctis loves it and it’s way more comfortable than formal dresses. Noctis doesn’t feel like he’s adjusting himself and shifting every three seconds. And the shoes? Oh god the shoes are _so comfortable_. Heels are cool, sure, but they’re so awful after a few hours.

The press does make a fuss about the pictures the Crown releases but, as promised, the Crown puts it down to _‘the changing preferences and tastes of the growing Princess_ ’ and pointedly refuses to elaborate further than that. Noctis likes the photos for once. He thinks he looks cool.

It’s irritating in some ways because it’s still basically a secret. Gladio doesn’t know, let alone anyone else, and in public even Ignis and Prompto have to use Noctis’ formal titles. It feels increasingly itchy and frustrating to be called ‘ _Miss_ ’ and ‘ _Milady_ ’ and stuff but Noctis also isn’t ready for everyone to know yet either.

Talking to Grace once a fortnight is helping a lot, wearing things he likes is helping, having some people know is helping, but he still has to wear the female school uniform right now and that irritates him to no end.

“You got that suit in the end,” Gladio grins at him one afternoon as they wrap up training. “Everything okay, Princess?”

“Sort of,” Noctis shrugs, “can I talk to you about it?”

“Of course,” Gladio promises. “Always.”

“I’m talking to a therapist about, like, transitioning…?” Noctis explains.

Gladio pauses, water bottle in hand, and looks at Noctis like something is finally sliding into place.

“ _Oh_.” He whispers. “That…”

“Yeah?” Noctis murmurs.

“That makes more sense,” Gladio nods slowly. “I’ve noticed you’ve been changing some things up. In some ways you seem a lot more at ease, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” Noctis nods, surprised Gladio’s noticed. “Does it change anything? With us?”

“Nope,” Gladio grunts, head shaking like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “You’re my liege. My life is yours. This doesn’t change that. Besides, I want you to be you, be happy. Screw everyone else, ya know?”

“Y-yeah!” Noctis feels his knees quake with a kind of giddy gratitude.

“Gonna have to call you Prince Charming now,” Gladio grins. “Iggy taught you how to do your own tie yet?”

“Yes, actually,” Noctis laughs.

“Good,” Gladio chuckles.

There’s a beat of silence before Gladio adds;

“You know, Noct, if you want to bind or anything talk to me, okay? We talked about it a little in my university courses.” Gladio shrugs. “Binding’s really bad when you exercise and train because you can’t get enough air but even if you’re just walking around it can be really bad for you. You’ve got to do it right and you shouldn’t for more than like eight to twelve hours, ya get me?”

Noctis sips his water. “I’ve been looking at it,” he admits. “I really want to but I don’t want to fuck up my ribs or anything. It’s kind of a shitty situation…”

“I can look into it?” Gladio offers. “There are good, professional, binders that speciality stores make online. We could get you a good one. You couldn’t wear it when we train but it’d feel way better knowing, if you are going to wear one, that it’s safe for your body.”

“Would you?” Noctis hopes. “That’d be amazing.”

“Consider it an early birthday present,” Gladio grins.

* * *

Noctis manages as best he can until he’s about sixteen. That’s when discussions really amp up in his counselling with Grace.

Noctis brings it up in yet another appointment with his Dad. Regis has gotten much better informed over the past two years but he's still hesitant to take certain steps. Unfortunately for him Noctis is sick of waiting.

"I want to transition publicly." Noctis reiterates. 

"I know," Regis assures, "but there will be fall out from that decision."

"There's always going to be fall out." Noctis agrees. "But I'm ready and I'm not going to change my mind on this. It's not like if you wait another year I'll be a girl."

"I know that, Noctis," Regis promises, "I'm not saying that. I just don't want to stress you with a public spectacle."

"I've got two more years at school, it's not like I'm graduating," Noctis shrugs, "and besides not being able to be myself is stressing me out more."

Regis wavers.

"If people kept calling you a Niff or something, something you knew wasn't true, and they were making decisions about you based on that false assumption in every aspect of your life you'd get pretty frustrated too." Noctis presses the point. "I'm sick of it. This isn't the hormone therapy discussion. This isn't the surgery discussion. This is; I want to stop living as a fake person."

Regis sighs.

"I'm your son, right?" Noctis hits one last note.

"Yes, of course," Regis answers firmly.

"Then let me just announce it." Noctis pleads.

"Grace?" Regis glances. "What do you think?"

"People are always going to have an opinion." Grace nods. "But separate it out and the opinion is fundamentally irrelevant. Will people thinking Noctis is a girl make him a girl?"

"No," Regis snorts, weakly amused if only by Noctis' stubbornness. "He's a boy."

"Then eventually everyone else is going to have to deal with that reality too." Grace shrugs. "I can understand waiting for certain reasons but it doesn't sound like we've got a great reason right now." 

"I suppose that's a point..." Regis sighs, giving Noctis a thoughtful look. "Alright, alright... we'll organise it." 

Noctis cheers. 

"People might not be enthused, Noctis. There's going to be a portion of the population who don't understand and don't want to." Regis reminds him. 

"And that won't stop me being their King," Noctis snorts, adding dutifully: "I know I have to serve the entire country. Even people who don't like me."

Noctis says that but...

School is easy. His principal agrees he'll start wearing the boy's uniform Monday and use the disabled bathrooms to avoid any issues. It's an annoying minor concession but Noctis is willing to take the trade off.

The press release Sunday night? 

It's a fire storm. Most of Lucis are supportive, at least they pay lip service to being progressive, and compared to most countries Lucis has always been fairly liberal what with their long-held traditions concerning homosexuality and polygamy. Interesting how, in some ways, by staying the most archaic Lucis has circled back around to be the most progressive in the modern world. They just never effectively made an issue of most things.

Still transgender stuff? Not everyone understands that in great detail. Some sects of the population value boys over girls given they're a nation with a long-held warrior culture and those people aren't altogether agreed on how to feel. A lot of average people link it to magic; they don't understand it, personally, but that weirdness makes them powerful and grand so if the Princess is a Prince then... it must be okay? After all Noctis is the Chosen. The Prophesied Champion of Light. He should, by that logic, be a little different. 

A lot of other people think it’s their business how Noctis will marry and produce an heir to champion the Crystal after him. They feel like they deserve an answer and a prompt answer at that. The Crown maintains Noctis will marry and Noctis will have an heir but that the exact details of that are either confidential, not yet agreed upon, or in the hands of the Six. Regis holds firm there because as far as he's concerned no one gets to ask questions about Noctis unfertilised eggs, let alone when he's sixteen. 

There is, inescapably, a portion of the population that...

Well, they're small but vocal detractors. Noctis is defying the will of the Six that gave him a female body, Noctis needs therapy, Noctis is corrupted or perverse...

Most of the really bad ones don't get air-time on major networks but they're slinking around the internet in fundamentalist or extremist forums. Noctis sees them, can't escape them sometimes, but the ones that irritate him the most are the condescending fuckers who say "the Princess is confused" or that "we have to help her! She needs to learn to love herself!" or "She's ruining her beautiful body!". Like Noctis is an idiot. Like what Noctis does with his body is any of their business. Like if Noctis just loved himself more and didn't listen to _'overzealous liberals_ ' he'd understand the Gods already made him exactly how he's ' _supposed'_ to be for _'optimum happiness'_. It's obnoxious and infuriating. They think they sound caring or something but you don't have to be a genius to see through the paper thin veneer of their bigotry. 

Yeah, the condescending ‘ _we want to save you!_ ’ crowd can suck a fat fucking dick.

Prompto, Ignis and Gladio fall into it instantly. Honestly they’ve been calling him _‘him_ ’ in private for so long its actually easier not to have to switch. They think of him as a guy too, they’ve made the mental shift, but Noctis can see his teachers fighting not to slip up and Glaive trying to remember not to call him ‘ _Princess_ ’. The important thing? Everyone’s _trying_. Noctis doesn’t care if they slip up so long as he can see them making the effort to meet him halfway.

Most of them don’t have a choice though. Noctis outranks them and his orders whether based in comfort or practicality take precedent. He knows that’s a privileged position. If he was just some kid at the public high-school he’d likely cop a lot more flack on the everyday level. Sure, the whole country, even the whole world, are passing judgement on him but day to day? No one in his immediate circle is going to try anything without being terrified of losing their jobs. Noctis holds too much power over them. If he was a normal high schooler? Going to the bathroom at the mall would be terrifying but Noctis is never going to get to use a public bathroom anyway.

Protocol comes pretty easily; there’s a template. He’s Prince Noctis now. Easy formal switch all things considered. All formal documents coming down the Citadel chain of command are addressed to Prince Noctis from the Monday after the press release. Changing his gender marker on his learner’s permit and passport comes a month or two later but Ignis rushes it through with military efficiency. Ignis has been preparing a list of every formal document Noctis needs to change gender marker on in his phone for like two years. It’s how Ignis shows his support. 

The media gets on board, much like the staff, to assure they can get their foot in the door. Some places even want to interview Noctis about the decision which… it feels a little intrusive but Noctis can understand the urge people have to understand. They only see this from the outside and, maybe, saying something publicly about his experience will help someone else. Noctis expresses interest in accepting the exclusive interview with Crown City Presses but the King’s office declines the request formally. Noctis is frustrated but his Dad keeps pulling the ‘ _you’re sixteen, your private life and sexuality are no one’s business while you’re still a child_ ’ which… ugh, maybe fair?

The funniest reactions are probably the people who weren’t already in the know but who know Noctis very well.

Nyx Ulric kind of overcompensates by immediately making Noctis ‘ _one of the guys_ ’ which is really nice if a little weird. Noctis is sure it’ll feel more natural over time but for now it’s a nice gesture. Nyx seems to think being a transman means Noctis loves everything stereo-typically male. Like it’s a switch or something. Like now Noctis will obviously love beer, sports and cars because of course…? Noctis tries, very gently, to set the record straight but the thought is nice.

Titus Drautos seems to want to avoid the issue. Noctis wonders if its disapproval at first because Drautos gently pushes to avoid using _any_ titles at all. Like he doesn’t want to say _‘Princess’_ and make Noctis upset but he’s not really comfortable saying _‘Prince’_ yet either? Noctis is getting a little rankled but, when pushed, Drautos does use male pronouns. It becomes slowly evident that the Captain is just slow to adjust and while not disapproving he is awkward. He doesn’t want to make a mistaken so while the transition settles in his mind he’s keeping his mouth mostly shut. Which… okay. That’s okay.

Cor is the funniest.

Noctis is in an elevator with him, heading to a meeting, a few days after the press release.

“You seem more relaxed, Highness,” Cor grunts mildly.

“Definitely.” Noctis nods.

“Are you having any trouble since the press release?”

“Not really,” Noctis shrugs.

Cor gives him that look, all pointed, and Noctis elaborates a little further.

“Most people are trying their best which is all I can ask for.” Noctis explains. “It’s the condescending people; the people who use the wrong pronouns on purpose and then pretend either it was an accident or like I’m being unreasonable because _‘genetics don’t care about feelings_ ’ or something. The people who think my genitals are any of their business.”

“If you have any trouble,” Cor murmurs, “you let me know.”

“What’ll you do?” Noctis snorts, curious.

“Nothing officially.” Cor shrugs, hands clasped behind his back. “But there are a lot of unofficial ways the Crown can make someone’s life very uncomfortable.”

Noctis grins softly.

“Doesn’t sound very kind or kingly.” Noctis murmurs, knowing what his Dad would say instantly.

“Maybe not,” Cor grunts, “but a king shouldn’t let anyone push him around fearlessly.”

“I agree wholeheartedly.” Noctis promises. “Thanks Marshall.”

“Always at your service, your Highness.”

* * *

The weirdest thing is probably the girls.

Noctis is out maybe two weeks before the love letters start.

He’s always had admirers, most of them guys who leave weirdly poetic letters in his locker, but now he’s out the girls take it as an announcement of open season or something.

“That’s like three, dude.” Prompto snorts, sifting through his love letters as they clean out his locker between periods.

“Eh,” Noctis grunts, adjusting his tie. He fucking loves the boy’s uniform. It’s so great.

“You even a little tempted? Now it’s girls?” Prompto wonders.

“Not really,” Noctis shrugs. “It’s the same as when I was a princess; those letters are just cliches from people who don’t really know me and who are too afraid to talk to me themselves. I’d be a lot more interested if they knew anything about me before deciding we’re destined to be together, ya know?”

“Noct’s still Noct.” Prompto laughs, handing the letters back.

Noctis always disposes of them privately. Leaving them in the trash around the school is a recipe for disaster and he doesn’t want to break some poor girl’s heart that aggressively. He doesn’t read the letters mind you, hasn’t for years, because they’re sickeningly depressing but that doesn’t mean he wishes their writers any ill fortune.

“You got that appointment this afternoon?” Prompto asks gently.

“Yeah,” Noctis grins knowingly.

“You nervous? Like at all?”

“More like trying not to get my hopes up.” He laughs, whispering frantically; “I just want my fucking hormones already, damn it.”

“Your Dad’s never agreed to talk to a doctor before?” Prompto supposes. “That’s encouraging.”

Noctis crosses his fingers tightly.

After school Noctis is taken to an appointment with a very expensive private doctor and his father. There’s like twelve Crownsguard in the clinic when he arrives and he brings three, not counting Ignis, so like… it’s a real sausage fest. But the office is just him, his Dad and the doctor.

“Your Highness,” Doctor Arthur Giralt greets, “pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Nice to meet you,” Noctis returns, smile a little less practised and a little more genuinely excited than usual.

Doctor Arthur is primarily discussing hormone therapy with them. He outlines the sort of changes it can cause. The ones that are reversible and the ones that aren’t. He outlines the health risks, increased chances of this or that, that sort of thing.

“It…?” Regis hesitates. “It can do that much? Even after puberty? Noctis did you know—?”

“Yeah Dad,” Noctis laughs. “I want _that_.”

“It’s not uncommon, your Majesty, for me to hear parents fretting about the same changes their children are actually looking forward to.” Doctor Arthur chuckles.

“Well…” Regis sighs. “You’re sure?”

Noctis nods passionately.

“We’ll take a few blood tests, get some baseline levels, and then we would monitor everything very closely. The Prince has a few options; injections here every three months, the gel, patches, or home injections weekly. Much lower dosage in the home injections.”

“What about fertility?” Regis circles back around while Noctis’ brain sizzles. “You said that can be adversely effected?”

“Generally the female reproductive system will not be as fertile after hormone therapy with testosterone. It might be possible to stimulate it but, if his Highness wants children, we should consider harvesting some eggs and storing them before the commence.”

“Sounds expensive.” Noctis grimaces. It’s not the expense that bothers him, not exactly. He doesn’t like the idea of having his fucking eggs harvested it makes him feel gross and really _feminine_. He doesn’t like things that remind him his body isn’t the way he wishes it was. 

“Cost is not an issue.” Regis assures. “I am happy to agree to the testosterone only on the condition we collect eggs.”

“Dad—” Noctis groans.

“Our magic is genetic. If your children aren’t connected to the bloodline they’re not connected to the Crystal. You can use a surrogate, your wife perhaps, but they need to be _your_ eggs.” 

“Ugh…” Noctis throws his head back.

“We’ll make it as painless as possible.” Doctor Arthur assures. “We know this is uncomfortable, Highness.”

“Alright, alright…” Noctis sags. “Eggs then testosterone, deal?” He thrusts his hand at his father.

“Deal,” Regis promises with a shake.

* * *

The fertility booster stuff they give Noctis to get more eggs to drop is _fucking awful_. He’s so bloated he feels about the size of a horse. They retrieve about forty-five eggs in three sessions across three cycles. It’s pretty noninvasive but Noctis finds it incredibly gross and awkward. He hates it.

But it’s down and the Crown is paying for storage.

And now…

Doctor Arthur gives Noctis his first injection of testosterone and shows both him and Ignis how to administer the home shots. Noctis gets an info kit, some warnings, and about six weeks of shots.

“I think you’re glowing,” Gladio laughs as they load up in the Regalia.

“Levitating perhaps?” Ignis snorts. “Shall we celebrate?”

“Yes!”

The testosterone proves powerful. Some changes take longer than others but after a couple of months Noctis is really feeling it. His voice is cracking and squeaking constantly, like he's got a bad throat infection or something, but he's moving into the deeper pitch as best he can. He doesn't get a lot more hair but there is a little stubble to shave every few days and that feels nice. He's way sweatier, way hornier and he didn't think he could get any moodier but evidently...

The weirdest, most validating, part?

Noctis magic, which has always faltered and hiccuped strangely, redoubles seemingly overnight once he starts hormone therapy and from there it grows and grows in orders of magnitude like his magic was waiting for a little testosterone to really start at all. 

Regis is mystified. Noctis is smug and delighted until he's overwhelmed by exactly how much magic he's simmering with. There are several incidents: he causes a black out in his school district, he starts a two day storm, he freezes some priceless antiques during a function, he warps right through a wall in the training arena...

At one point they talk about reducing his T dose to steady it or moving Noctis back the Citadel to manage it but Noctis commits to gaining control before that becomes necessary which means hard training sessions with Nyx, Cor, Gladio, Crowe and even Drautos. 

It's a lot of late nights but Noctis starts to get a handle on his magic eventually. It's not much worse than before there's just so much more of it!

For the first time in—Well, ever, Noctis feels like he’s really _himself_.

Everyone knows, his documents say it, his body is getting on board, his friends support him, he can dress the way he wants… Everything’s finally, finally, falling into place. It sounds crazy. A lot of the things that made him the most uncomfortable were small, basic, everyday things that most people don’t even have to think about. But Noctis thought about them a lot and they caused him a lot of discomfort.

He talks about dysphoria a lot in his sessions with Grace, especially the earlier ones, but now he’s allowed to live his life how feels right that feeling has lessened. The discomfort, the anxiety, the stress, the self-loathing… it’s all receded back. He feels _calmer_. People have even noticed it too. Noctis isn’t having to think so hard. He doesn’t have to be undercover in every situation. He can just be himself. That’s making all the difference.

Grace says they shouldn’t lower his anti-depressant for a while yet but if he’s still feeling good in eighteen months they can talk about reducing the dosage. Maybe even coming off the medication? It sounds crazy but it might be possible.

The last bastion of the dysphoria is his chest.

His breasts.

And that…

That’s going to be a fight.

He’s convinced his Dad to accept hormone therapy, public transitions… all sorts of things really but surgery? Surgery to cut off part of his anatomy? Regis is going to have a problem with that. Noctis just knows.

So Noctis endures, trying to be patient, for a little longer. He revels in his hormones, his new public image as a charming bachelor, and his new documents. He focuses on the things he can control, just like Grace is always saying, and he swallows up the last of his discomfort as best he can for a little bit longer.

When Noctis turns eighteen Prompto is worried about final marks for their high schooling and Ignis is fretting about Noctis’ university applications but Noctis is focused on one thing and one thing only; _top surgery_.

Noctis has to request a meeting with his Dad and that takes a week before he can have his appointment but Noctis is okay with that. Gives him more time to plan his approach. He kind of wants Gladio there. Gladio’s always saying the binding is bad for his combat performance and if they’re attacked at random it could seriously compromise Noctis. Still, maybe, for best results he should talk to his Dad alone?

“So what’s this about? Hmm?” Regis invites him into his side. “Let’s see… university? Marriages prospects?”

“We do need to discuss all that,” Noctis acknowledges, “but… I actually wanted to talk about top surgery?”

“Oh,” Regis hesitates. “What about it?”

“I’m going to have the operation. Maybe not bottom surgery, not right now. But I want top surgery.”

“I…” Regis purses his lips uncomfortably. “It makes me worry. It’s a very big operation for anyone. I don’t like putting you at risk.”

“Binding is causing plenty of long-term damage and it puts me at risk every day.” Noctis argues patiently. “Besides, would you want to be a guy with tits?”

“No,” Regis acknowledges, “but this is unnecessary surgery. I don’t like the idea.”

“Well…” Noctis frowns gently. “I’m eighteen and I’m not asking for permission.”

Regis blinks.

“I’ll take a loan if I have to.” Noctis shrugs. “I’m willing to do what I have to, to cover costs and stuff. But I’m having the surgery. I’m not asking you for permission, Dad, I’m just trying to help you be less scared.”

Regis deflates.

“You’re so stubborn,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah.” Noctis snorts. “Sorry about that.”

Regis slumps back. “I’d rather you used royal doctors. At least then I know they’re the best. And if you’re determined to do this with or without me…”

Noctis smiles weakly. “Kind of, yeah.”

“Seems I don’t get a choice then,” Regis sighs, but he doesn’t seem resentful. Like always he’s just scared.

“Gladio can help me with physical therapy and after graduation we’ve got a few months before University starts. Plenty of time to recover.”

Regis doesn’t look convinced but nods patiently.

* * *

Ignis is somehow even more sceptical than the King. That said Ignis copes with his fretting by interrogating every possible avenue for the surgeon and surgery. They haven’t even picked a hospital yet and Ignis already has a two month care plan for Noctis’ recovery.

The surgery itself?

Painful as _shit_.

Noctis had some painful surgeries as a kid, after his back injury, but he didn’t have magic then and he wakes up this time groggy and ready to fight. Gladio has to wrestle him back down onto the bed and he’s already summoned a sword. Ignis is fucking losing it, Gladio is laughing and Ignis is screeching;

“This isn’t funny Gladio!”

“I just—” Gladio laughs. “Glad to know he absorbed some of his training!”

Noctis spends about two weeks on what basically amounts to bed-rest. He’s swollen, he’s tender, he’s got drains and like… ew, its just so painful and swirly on all the painkillers. He wants to throw up every time he looks at his handheld consoles.

He’s so fragile that Regis insists he recover at the Citadel, cloistered away, but Ignis pulls some strings to get Prompto visitation after a week. Noctis remembers it, mostly, but he’s not himself on the medication and he passes out against Prompto after just an hour.

After two weeks Noctis is up to some very light duties and the painkillers are eased back slightly. He feels more like himself, the swelling is starting to go down, and he can focus in meetings but Gladio refuses to allow him back into physical training for another month and even then they scale up toward his usual intense routine. Noctis has to get used to the new weight distribution after all and its weird not wearing a binder anymore. He never did for training but just being able to wear a singlet? No sports bra? Being less hot and constricted in general? It’s fucking _amazing_.

The scars are kind of lumpy but his surgeon assures him that should go down with time and care. He experiences weird lapses where his chest is numb almost and then really tingly but, again, his surgeon tells him that will settle. At least his nipples don’t look weird, thank fuck. They had many a pre-op meeting about the look of his nipples. Which, admittedly, sounds weird but is totally a legit concern in this kind of thing.

Honestly as he heads into university he feels… legitimate?

He feels like he passes now, which is a huge thing. People don’t see him and think ‘ _girl_ ’ or ‘ _butch lesbian_ ’ they think _‘guy’_. His voice sounds right, his body is more to his tastes, and he doesn’t mind a few more scars.

Prompto teases;

“It’s not fair you’re, like, two hundred percent more handsome than me.”

“Nah, Prom, only forty percent. Tops.” Noctis assures.

Prompto laughs and thwacks him across the shoulder.

Noctis is halfway through his first year at University when he has to take time away from classes for a visiting Niflheim delegation. They’ve got a tenuous peace with Niflheim right now but there’s a lot of bad blood between the countries and Niflheim tried to take the Lucian continent less than thirty years ago.

Prince Loqi, Aldercapt’s Grandson, is legitimately an asshole and evidently doesn’t think very much of Noctis. He never uses the wrong pronouns, he’s not that keen to die by Gladio’s sword, but he fumbles over ‘ _Prince_ ’ frequently and more than once makes a sound like correcting himself is irritating and absurd. There’s a pointed commented about how he’s ‘ _a true born prince_ ’ and a piss poor joke about how Niffian men are ‘ _real men_ ’. Ignis almost kills him that day but Noctis orchestrates an excuse to demonstrate to Prince Loqi he can literally shoot lightning out his fucking fingertips and that shuts the Niff up temporarily.

Annoyingly, as obnoxious as the Niffs are, Chancellor Izunia? Noctis has to admit…

Like, okay, the Chancellor is obviously an asshole. He’s just got that two faced energy you get used to reading in political settings but Chancellor Izunia slowly sort of endears himself to Noctis.

Ardyn Izunia never uses the wrong pronouns. Man doesn’t even fucking slip. He’s got that…. Noctis can’t explain it. But Noctis can tell when someone’s accepted, in their head, that Noctis is a real man. Ardyn Izunia has long since accepted Noctis is a prince, a real prince, and he acts like it.

So during the festivities Noctis has a molecule more patience for the Chancellor than basically anyone else in the delegation.

They end up talking on one of the balconies, Gladio and Nyx close behind.

Noctis isn’t sure exactly how it comes up but they’re discussing bravery.

“Yourself and Prince Loqi are perhaps of comparable military skills, of course,” Ardyn shrugs, “but I consider it wise to keep an eye on the man brave enough to be himself without apology.”

Noctis snorts, kind of flattered. That sounded vaguely genuine but who knows?

“You seem to have more patience for Lucian oddities,” Noctis remarks casually.

“I have a more realistic tolerance for what counts as odd,” Ardyn assures. “We know so much about ourselves intrinsically and magic is decidedly real so… why should it be so odd if there are occasional mix ups like your predicament?” 

“Well, your pragmatism is a appreciated,” Noctis taps their glasses together.

“I think it’s crucial in my line of work.” Ardyn insists. “If you’re going to love a man or, indeed, hate a man; you should deal with them as they truly are. You can’t accurately strategize if you ignore the truth of your opponent.” 

“So I should be more weary of your ire than Prince Loqi’s?” Noctis teases.

“Well, he does have the Imperial arsenal behind him,” Ardyn sighs, “but I might be fearsome in a game of poker.”

Noctis laughs.

“I was hoping we might be able to….” Ardyn rolls his hands. “Discuss some mechanisms for building good faith between our nations.”

“What did you have in mind?” Noctis permits. “I can’t make any official promises without his Majesty’s approval but I’m listening.”

“Well you’ll be getting married soon, I imagine Highness?”

“Probably,” Noctis murmurs, tension creeping back, “but I’m not really looking for a _husband_.”

“No, of course not,” Ardyn dismisses, “I’ve heard a whisper Princess Lunafreya has already approached Lucis.”

“I can’t confirm or deny.” Noctis answers.

“I’m sure,” Ardyn snorts, “I only mean to say; Niflheim has made particularly incredible strides in the field of genetics and biology. Perhaps, as a wedding present, we could offer some resources to help you and your lovely bride conceive?”

Noctis pauses, kind of dumbstruck.

“I…” He laughs, trying to downplay his own shock. “I’d certainly be interested to hear more about _that_.”

“Wonderful.” Ardyn cheers. “I’ll keep it on my list, eh?”

“Y-yes, please do.” Noctis nods. “Another strategic philosophy of yours?”

“Only in so much as; if you’re going to bargain, you should bring something desirable to the table.” Ardyn tuts. “I know Prince Loqi’s not as tempting as Princess Lunafreya to a young man such as yourself but we have other things to offer.”

“Evidently.” Noctis murmurs. “I’m starting to see why you run the Ministry.”

“You don’t get to the top from nowhere without a few brain cells,” Ardyn shrugs. “It’s part of my roguish charm, Highness.”

Noctis snorts.

Ardyn’s probably up to something, almost certainly, but even if he is? Noctis respects an enemy who can look him in the eye after they stab him in the back. On a scale from one to ten? Loqi’s a negative two and Ardyn’s a nine. Like, you can’t pick your enemies; but at least Ardyn Izunia says trans rights.


End file.
